A/N So many lovely reviews! Thank you, thank you, thank you... Can you tell I was just a bit excited to see them all?
So I think this is probably the longest chapter I've ever written... I hope that doesn't put anyone off :-)
Don't forget to let me know what you think...
Hercules looked at the King with suspicious eyes. Without a second thought he slowly moved himself until he was standing half in front of Jason, preparing himself to defend his young friend to the last if necessary even though he was unarmed. On the other side of the dark haired lad Pythagoras moved into place in support of his friends. Of course Hercules acknowledged the fact that if Minos decided to call for his guards – his armed guards – there would be very little any of them could do. Still if he was going to go down then he would go down fighting; defending his friends to the last.
In the centre of the chamber Minos' eyes narrowed as he watched the three men. There was something almost amusing in the way that Jason's two friends prepared to defend him in spite of their obvious lack of weaponry. Just how long did they think they would last against armed soldiers if it really came down to it? And yet there was also something both heart-warming and breath-taking about their complete loyalty to one another. Had he ever engendered such loyalty in another person? He had witnessed it before with these three of course; had heard the rumours that Jason had entered the labyrinth and faced the Minotaur on behalf of one of his friends (it was the skinny one who had actually drawn the black stone if the rumours were correct) and that the other two had been caught trying to break him free and sent in with him; had seen the older man speak up for Jason at his trial in spite of his own fear (and really with hindsight it had been wrong of him to sentence the other two along with the outspoken young man simply for being his friends – his only excuse was that he had been irritated at the time) and had watched as they had leapt the bulls together – supporting each other in any way they could. Such loyalty – such absolute faith in one another – could not be bought and the King of Atlantis found himself almost envious. He stepped forwards with his palms raised in a gesture of peace.
"I mean you no harm," he stated, "but as I said we have much to discuss and precious little time to do it. This has come as a shock to us all but there are… implications that we must consider." He looked straight at Jason. "Know now though that although there will be certain…expectations… placed upon you I would still have you made welcome and comfortable within my house – for your mother's sake if nothing else. I give you my word that you have nothing to fear from me."
Hercules exchanged a worried glance with Pythagoras. Was the King being honest? He seemed sincere enough but that might change the instant he saw Jason as a threat. Then there was Jason himself. How would he react to everything that was going on? The big man could hear his young friend's breath rasping, coming in short, anxious bursts, and could feel the tension growing in the lad. Hercules was worried that after his outburst at the Oracle Jason was beginning to shut down; to disappear inside his own head again. What he wanted more than anything right now was to get Jason to somewhere quiet and safe where he could be encouraged to let everything out rather than bottle it all up inside as seemed likely if he were to be forced to stay here in the public eye.
"I am sure that you must have many questions and there are many plans that must be discussed for the future," Minos continued. "For now there is a situation of vital importance that we must consider. It relates to the current siege and the future of Atlantis; to the very peace treaty that the Amphigeneians have breached. Come, this matter must be discussed in private. You will return to the Palace with us to hear what I have to say."
Jason didn't answer. His mind was in turmoil. Who should he trust? Everyone it seemed had been lying to him in one way or another, although ironically the person who had apparently been the most honest with him was the one person that everyone had been telling him he should most fear – Minos. Even his friends had kept this from him – one more item to add to the long list of things they should have told him but hadn't. They, at least, had been trying to act in his best interests, however – of that he had no doubt. No matter how misguided they had been both Pythagoras and Hercules had been acting out of love; had been trying to protect him; and he knew that he still trusted them both implicitly no matter what. It didn't mean that he wasn't still angry at them, however. No matter how good their intentions he was still hurt by their actions; stung by their lies of omission. Of all the revelations of the morning that was what had hit him the most – the fact that his friends had not trusted that he was strong enough to cope; had known how much it would have meant to him to find out more about his own family and had still chosen to keep their knowledge to themselves. It tore his defences apart; left him raw and open to attack. Right now he would really like to find a quiet bolt hole somewhere where he could just disappear from the eyes of the world for a while to build his walls back up but even that seemed to be impossible given Minos' declaration that he was to return to the Palace with the King and Queen.
The Palace. What did they expect him to do at the Palace? What did they want of him? His breathing quickened even further as the walls of the cavern seemed to loom up around him, closing in and threatening to suffocate him. Would his friends be allowed to come as well? Somehow he doubted that either the King or Queen would be happy with that. What exactly would happen if he refused to go? Would they have him brought there in chains? Jason was in no doubt that he was not actually going to be given any choice in the matter. He clenched his hands into fists at his sides, nails biting hard into the palms of his hands, the left one flaring into pain as they irritated the bound wound – using the sensation to try to ground himself; to fight away the unreasoning waves of panic. They were going to take all choice away from him; were going to leave him with no control whatsoever over his own life; would rob him of his independence. He couldn't do this; couldn't be what they wanted him to be; couldn't be another Heptarian. He was bound to mess up like he always did. Sooner or later he was going to do something or say something wrong and then what would they do? Jason could feel his pulse starting to race as his breath came in short, sharp gasps, his chest tightening painfully and blood pounding in his ears. The air felt thick and heavy and he couldn't seem to get enough oxygen as his vision closed in and waves of dizziness rocked him.
He was vaguely aware of caring hands easing him down to sit on the stairs as the pain in his chest grew. A callused but gentle hand shoved his head firmly down between his legs while the other hand rubbed up and down his spine and a gruff voice instructed him to take deep breaths. In all honesty Jason tried – he really did – but the air felt too thick and his breath rattled in his throat as his mind scrabbled for some purchase to calm himself down. He didn't have time for this now; needed desperately to focus. A smooth hand caught his and unclenched his tightly furled fingers, pressing it gently against a thin chest, the breastbone protruding far too much to be described as truly healthy, and the quiet and calm voice of Pythagoras murmured softly in his ear.
"It's alright," Pythagoras murmured. "It's all going to be alright. Just keep breathing with me. Listen to my voice and breathe. Easy Jason. That's it. Breathe with me."
Across the floor Minos watched the situation unfold ahead of him with growing confusion and concern. It was clear that his stepson had been driven into a panic attack but he really couldn't see how it had happened. Surely what he was suggesting – a discussion in private in the comfort of the Palace rather than in a dark, uncomfortable cavern where there was always the chance that they could be overheard – wasn't really all that bad was it? He mentally reviewed what he had said and could find nothing threatening in either his words or tone. Perhaps then it was something else; perhaps Jason was simply of a nervous disposition. Yet he had stood in front of the King on more than one occasion with his head unbowed under circumstances that would have had other men cowering. Even at his own trial he had not begged for mercy – his older friend had ended up trying to do that on his behalf. Then there was the situation last night too. The boy had shown courage once again in rescuing those children and hadn't Dion mentioned something about him being injured? That last thought came to Minos with a guilty little start. He hadn't even thought about the fact that the lad was apparently injured until now. Pain had a way of making the strongest man act out of character so perhaps that was the reason for Jason's sudden slide into panic. The boy was clearly in shock from the news he had been given, was emotionally overwrought, and when you added a level of pain and suffering into the mix it could well have pushed him too far. Still the King would need to make enquiries. If it were to prove that this was not the case and that Jason was in fact somehow mentally deficient then it could throw all of their plans into disarray. At that point he would need to decide what the kindest option for the boy would actually be.
At Minos' side Pasiphae stiffened. The King could almost feel her longing to go to her son; to provide comfort for the boy. He knew that it was only her granite hard reserve, honed by years spent in the cut-throat world of the nobility and the political jungle that was the Atlantian court, that held her in place. She clearly resented the fact that it was Jason's friends who were with him now; clearly believed that they were usurping her place. Yet all the King's paternal instincts told him that what the young man needed most right now was the familiarity of his friends. He was unsettled, upset, hurt and angry and required some form of stability in order to pull himself back together. Without a second thought Minos reached out and placed a restraining hand on his wife's arm. Pasiphae turned to face him and for a moment he was struck by the ferocity in her eyes.
"He does not know you my love," he murmured. "It would only make matters worse for you to try to go to him now. Jason is confused and upset. Allow his friends to do their work now – to calm him – and then we may speak with him."
"He is my son," Pasiphae hissed angrily.
"Yes but at present you do not know one another; do not understand one another. Any relationship that you have will need time to form. Today we may take the first steps along that road, but Jason needs to be ready to listen. The situation we find ourselves in means that we cannot truly give him the time he needs to adjust and adapt but it seems we must at least give him these few minutes to regain control of himself," Minos hesitated. "We must make enquiries as to his mental faculties, however. This sudden attack of panic might indicate a far deeper affliction. We cannot afford to show any weakness by acknowledging a family member who is not completely sane."
For a moment Minos saw anguish flare in Pasiphae's eyes. Then they hardened and she glared at him ferociously once more.
"You do not know that this is true," she snapped.
"No," Minos agreed, "but it would seem prudent to make enquiries given the speed of this attack. We must know if your son is prone to bouts of emotional violence before we make any decisions about the future." He glanced across the chamber and half-smiled. "But see, he is already returning to himself. Whatever has caused that disturbance in his equilibrium he is recovering rapidly."
Jason forced his head up and his eyes open – although he couldn't actually recall when he had closed them – as Pythagoras' gentle voice broke through the haze in his mind. The unreasoning panic – the feeling that the walls were closing in – had receded and the air felt thinner again; felt breathable. In front of him Pythagoras sat back on his heels and looked long and hard at his friend, his blue eyes still mirroring his concern.
"Sorry," Jason muttered.
"Are you feeling better now?" the young genius asked quietly.
"Yeah. Everything's just…" Jason shook his head helplessly. "I don't know what to think anymore… I mean it just feels like everything I thought I knew was a lie… everything I knew about myself… it's just a bit overwhelming."
Pythagoras sighed.
"I cannot pretend to know how you are feeling right now," he admitted. "If it were me I would probably be hiding under a table somewhere drawing triangles repetitively. But Jason there are so many new doors that could open for you now if you were to grasp the opportunity. Know that whatever happens… whatever you decide to do… I will support you."
He was rewarded by a faint smile, a shadow of Jason's normal grin, but still gratifying nevertheless under the circumstances, and moved to sit alongside his friend comfortably, slipping a thin arm around muscular shoulders automatically.
"I still don't know what I did to deserve a friend like you," Jason murmured softly. He looked up at the King and Queen and sighed. "I suppose I'd better go and meet them properly… somehow I don't think I made the best impression."
"Maybe it won't be as bad as you think," Pythagoras said comfortingly.
"You are kidding aren't you?" Jason asked incredulously. "I just had a complete meltdown in front of the King and Queen."
"Yes, but if it helps you also had a complete meltdown in front of your mother and stepfather… they might just be worried enough that it will override the King and Queen part."
Jason groaned.
"I think that actually makes it worse," he said. "Besides why would they be worried? They don't even know me."
"Not yet," Pythagoras agreed, "but maybe you should give them the chance to… You said you have longed for a family your whole life. Perhaps this is the chance to have one."
"I think I've already got one," Jason murmured nudging Pythagoras with his shoulder.
"And that will not change," the mathematician confirmed firmly, "but this is an opportunity that many would dream of. All it will truly mean is that your family has increased a little in size."
As the two boys chatted softly – Pythagoras continuing to settle his friend's nerves down with his calm and comforting words, whether Jason realised it or not – Hercules looked up to see the King watching him, his face unreadable. With one swift imperious gesture he motioned for the burly wrestler to join him in the centre of the room. Hercules gulped but complied, knowing that his young friends were safe in each other's company.
"I have questions for you," the King stated.
Hercules gulped again.
"Yes My Lord," he said, bowing his head deferentially.
"The boy… Jason… what do you know of his background? Where was he raised?"
"He arrived in the city some months ago… nearly a year now, My Lord," Hercules began. "I don't exactly know where he was raised but it was far from here I'm sure. Pythagoras, my other friend, thinks that Jason was not raised anywhere in the Aegean… was not raised in Greece at all… I mean he speaks the language like a native… which I guess in a way he is… and reads and writes as well as Pythagoras does… but he's not Greek."
"And what of his father?" Minos asked. "What of the people who raised him? Do you know who they were? The boy must have told you something."
Hercules cast a look across at the two boys and offered up a brief unspoken prayer to the Gods that Jason would forgive him for telling the King what he knew.
"He is an orphan My Lord," he said. "Jason told us that his father disappeared when he was very young… only five… and that he came to Atlantis in search of him."
"Did he find him?" Minos demanded, a new threat suddenly coming into his mind.
"The Oracle told Jason that his father was dead, Your Majesty," Hercules said. "Where Jason grew up everyone believed that his father was already dead but no-one could explain it to him or give him any details so he came looking for answers himself." He hesitated for a moment before plunging on. "Jason had no-one to leave behind when he came here. He told us that he was raised in a place where they sent unwanted children and was occasionally farmed out to other families… people who were given money to look after him… he has known little in the way of a family life and love… and I won't see him hurt like that again."
Minos raised an eyebrow at Hercules' audacity. It beggared belief that a peasant would address him in this manner… and yet he found himself admiring the man's loyalty to his friend. Alongside him Pasiphae had listened to the big man's words with growing bitterness. She alone knew the secret of her former husband's survival. It was one thing to have stolen her son away; to have snatched him from his cradle and removed him from her life; to have denied her the chance of watching him grow – of being his mother. It was something else again to learn that the man had then abandoned the child. What possible excuse could Aeson ever have for his actions? For all she had despised her former husband – had hated him with renewed passion ever since she had learned of his treachery in stealing away her only child – she had at least comforted herself with the fact that Jason would have grown up with a doting father who would have seen to his every need. To learn now that Aeson had denied the boy even that much burned.
"Very well," Minos murmured. "No doubt the boy will reveal more of his… background and education as he becomes used to his situation. Now I must turn my mind to other things. The… attack… he just suffered, is he prone to them?"
"I'm not sure what you mean My Lord," Hercules said.
"Then let me speak plainly," Minos responded. "Is Jason disturbed in his mind? Does he suffer from a deeper affliction of which this is only a symptom?"
"No," Hercules retorted sharply. "Jason's as sane as you are… My Lord," he added as an afterthought. "He was ill a couple of months ago now and it's taken him a bit of time to get back to normal. Most of the time he's fine but now and then he just gets a bit… well… sad. When it happens he disappears into his own head and shuts himself off. We've learned how to head that off before it happens and usually it works. He's still getting better really no matter how much he tries to convince everyone that he's fine. Jason's tough though and he is getting there. It won't be too long before he's completely better; before we can put it all in the past. But right now he hasn't been sleeping all that well for the last few days and he's in pain from that knee… and what happened last night dredged up some bad memories. Then with everything he's been told today… I just think it all got a bit much. He'll be fine now, you'll see."
Minos nodded slowly and let out a relieved sigh.
"Good," he said shortly. His eyes narrowed suddenly and he looked acutely at Hercules. "Last night General Dion alluded to the fact that the boy was injured and now you refer to him being in pain. In what way is he harmed?"
"Jason badly twisted his knee and cracked three ribs falling down stairs last week, Your Majesty," Hercules answered, his tone once more deferential. "He was pretty knocked about afterwards. It was bad enough to confine him to bed for a few days and to put him onto crutches after that. His knee has only partially healed and is still pretty painful… and running around the city chasing and fighting slavers has irritated the injury. I had a doctor check him over last night and again this morning and he strapped Jason's knee back up. He also said that he wanted Jason to keep the weight off his feet for a full day as soon as we were home – to stay in bed for a day with his knee propped up – and to go back onto crutches for the next couple of days after that. At the very least he should be sitting down with his feet up."
"Then before anything else we must see to the lad's comfort," Minos murmured. "This situation… this news… has clearly upset the boy. When you add to that the pain of an injury…" he trailed off but looked sharply at Hercules. "Jason will require some measure of familiarity around him as we discuss the future," he said. "It is unfortunate that Anaxandros' actions mean that we cannot give him time to adjust. You and your other friend will accompany him when we go to the Palace." His tone brooked no argument.
Hercules nearly breathed a sigh of relief. There had been no way he was willing send Jason into the lion's den so to speak without accompanying him – it would have been like sending a lamb to the slaughter given the lad's naivety – but he hadn't been able to come up with a single reason that the King would have been likely to accept to keep himself at his friend's side. Now Minos had taken the problem out of his hands and had decided that it would be in everyone's interests if they all went to the Palace together.
"Of course, My Lord," the burly wrestler responded.
"Very well," Minos said. "We will return to the Palace as soon as Jason is ready to move."
Hercules glanced across at the Queen as he returned to his friends at the foot of the stairs. Pasiphae, he couldn't help thinking, looked like she had swallowed a wasp. He sighed, a sinking feeling gripping his stomach. He was suddenly, dreadfully certain that things were about to get complicated; that life was about to get very interesting indeed.
The room Pythagoras and his friends had been led to was opulent but not overly large or imposing. Rather than being one of the reception rooms where visiting dignitaries were customarily received Pythagoras surmised that this was a family room – far more intimate than the formal rooms and designed for the comfort of the royal family. He took it as a good sign that they had been brought here. Minos it appeared wished to at least make an attempt to put them all at ease. Or perhaps he should say that the King was making an attempt to put Jason at ease since he hardly thought his own or Hercules' feelings actually mattered all that much. The room was light and airy but warm – braziers in two of the corners radiating a glowing heat that made the room feel almost cosy. There were couches dotted about, richly upholstered and cushioned, and a recessed alcove was given over to a small shrine to one of the household gods. Near the couches were low tables, inlaid with precious woods, marble, mother-of-pearl and ivory imported across vast distances or given as gifts from visiting royalty. Pythagoras stooped to examine a particularly fine example, decorated with an image of birth of Aphrodite, showing the beauteous Goddess emerging from the waves. He found that he could not even name half of the woods used in the border and the central image, created from a mixture of different coloured marbles, ivory and mother-of-pearl, was simply exquisite.
"What are you doing?" Hercules' gruff voice came from somewhere behind him.
"Look at the workmanship in this," Pythagoras murmured. "The hours that must have been spent creating the central motif… it is truly amazing."
He turned to see Hercules staring at him sceptically and mentally sighed. He really should have remembered that his older friend had no appreciation for art whatsoever.
"Just as long as you don't break anything," Hercules responded.
Pythagoras squeaked in indignation but nevertheless moved to sit down on one of the couches. Bowls of fruit and rich pastries had been laid out on some of the tables along with several jugs of water and wine. Hercules drained a goblet noisily, the delicate cup looking out of place in his large hand, and tucked into another pastry, crumbs dropping indiscriminately down the front of his tunic. Pythagoras shuddered slightly, dreading the impression that the burly wrestler would make. Hercules followed his gaze and shrugged, slightly abashed at Pythagoras' disapproving look, brushing himself off and at least making an attempt to look presentable.
After they had left the Oracular chamber the three men had stopped briefly at the spot where they had spent the night before in order to collect Jason's breastplate and his and Hercules' swords. While it seemed unlikely that they would use them none of them were completely happy with the idea of abandoning them in the Temple. Plus it had had the added advantage of giving Jason a little more time to collect himself before he had to face whatever lay ahead.
The short journey between the Temple and the Palace had been awkward. Jason had not seemed inclined to chat and the other two had not really known what to say to him under the circumstances. Nothing any of them could say could really make this situation any better. The long flight of steps leading down from the Temple and the equally long flight leading up to the Palace on the other side of the square had been difficult. Cinyras had been proved correct in his estimation that Jason would need help. By the time they had entered the main doors of the Palace and been ushered in to the cavernous entrance hall by the waiting servants the young man had been leaning heavily on Hercules' broad shoulder and panting slightly with effort. Being Jason he had straightened as soon as he felt outside eyes on him of course and had followed the silent and apparently disapproving servant through the largely deserted corridors to this room with his head held high and his back straight. Pythagoras had never quite worked out just how his friend managed to shake things off and appear normal to the outside world no matter what was going on inside. You would have to know Jason very well indeed to realise that anything was wrong half of the time – he was simply too good at concealing both physical injuries and emotional turmoil alike.
At the door of the room the servant had left them with the news that the King had instructed that they were to make themselves comfortable inside. A bell had been left so that they could summon a servant if there was anything that they required but since then they had been left alone. Once inside the room Jason had almost seemed to wilt, allowing his friends to see what was kept from the world; his pain and upset. Away from prying eyes the strong, confident, apparently untroubled young man who had followed the servant through the halls vanished and he docilely allowed Hercules to help him to a couch, settling back onto it thoughtfully.
The burly wrestler had been in full overbearing paternal mode – sometimes Pythagoras thought that he acted in much the way he imagined a mother bear would when protecting her cubs. He had insisted on Jason swinging his legs up to half lie on the couch – although he had allowed the young man to remove his shoes first after Jason had somewhat anxiously suggested his sandals were far too dusty to be put on royal furniture – and had then grabbed some of the extra cushions from another couch to elevate his younger friend's knee. It was probably a good thing, Pythagoras decided, that Jason hadn't stubbornly dug his heels in and refused his older friend's ministrations as he was want to do on occasion. In fact Jason had done everything that Hercules had asked with barely a murmur; had lapsed into silent thought, his eyes drifting around the room curiously from time to time.
"Are you sure you are alright?" the young genius asked his dark haired friend. Jason had been quiet for far too long for either of his friends' comfort.
Jason blinked, pulled out of his thoughts. Everything was so messed up. All through his childhood he'd dreamed of discovering that his parents weren't dead; fantasised about finding his mother; dreamed of being part of a real family who would love and want him no matter what. In none of his fantasies, however, had his mother been a power-hungry, homicidal witch, nor had he ever imagined a stepfather who was a King and more than slightly paranoid to boot. It was like someone was playing a monumental joke on him – taking all his childhood fantasies and twisting them into something dark and unrecognisable. Not for the first time it felt like the whole world was falling down around him; like someone was dumping the weight of it on his shoulders.
But Pythagoras had suggested that maybe this was an opportunity; that maybe these people would accept him for who he was – as his friends had done so many months before – and Pasiphae had clearly been trying to be kind as she had bandaged his hand. Perhaps he owed it to her to give her a chance – if not a chance to be his mother then at least a chance to tell him her side of the story. And who knew what might grow from there? Perhaps it would not be so bad to learn about her; to learn about his family. But what if she wanted a price that he was not willing to pay? What if she wanted him to change who he was? To become a second Heptarian ready to dance to her tune? He certainly wasn't going to do that! Still it wouldn't hurt to wait and see what she had planned… and if they really were irreconcilable? Well that was a bridge he would have to cross when he came to it.
It didn't really help matters much that his head was still full of strange images left over from his dreams of the last two nights. Some of which seemed to have come true during their rescue of the children. Then there was the other thing that had happened last night – the feelings that had drawn him towards the right warehouse and later on had led him to the girls and helped them all to escape. He would like to write it off as coincidence; as his imagination going into overdrive. But that wasn't what it felt like. He had seen something different on the door from the street, had felt something pulling him onwards and had seen and felt that golden glow drawing him on towards their eventual escape. It had happened before back when he was a child, but then his Dad had told him that he had an overactive imagination and that he shouldn't say anything to anyone. Jason could still vaguely remember his Dad sitting him down one night and explaining that since he was becoming a big boy he needed to try to fit in with everyone else a bit more; to stop wandering off into flights of fancy and telling anyone who'd listen about his dreams; about the places and people in his head. He had always trusted his Dad implicitly; had always believed that his memories of the man were true; that his Dad had never been anything other than honest with him. Now he found out that even that had been a lie – that his Dad had had some rather large secrets that he had deliberately kept from his young son. Not least of which was the fact that Jason's mother had clearly not died shortly after his birth as he had always been led to believe. So what else might his father have been keeping from him? Could the images he had seen in his sleep and the feelings that had pulled him onwards last night have actually been real? They had certainly felt real – and that scared him more than anything.
Then there had been those weird voices that he had heard back in the Temple. Part of Jason was worried that they were going to turn out to be similar to the auditory hallucinations he had had during the most acute phase of his breakdown two months earlier. But they had felt so very different to that. Then the voices had come from within his own head; had taken on the remembered tones of people from his past as his mind had attacked itself. This time there had been no attack. These voices did not feel like part of his psyche and certainly did not correspond to anything from his memories; they had felt external and had not tried to belittle or threaten him in any way. They had simply claimed to want to meet him and had drawn him down into the Oracle's chamber… just at the right time to encounter his mother and stepfather and prove the truth of Pythagoras' earlier words. So what exactly had they been? As he had prepared to leave the cavern to come here for the promised meeting with Minos they had spoken to him one last time, assuring him that they would wait for him; that he must not tell anyone about them; that they would be there waiting to meet him when he could get away but that for now he should go with the King. A brief glance at his friends had quickly made him realise that they could not hear the voices themselves and he had refrained from telling them at least in part because he was worried that they might think he had lost the plot again. Perhaps he had. Who knew? Now though Pythagoras was watching him worriedly, expecting an answer to his earlier question. Jason pulled himself together and attempted a smile.
"Do not tell me you are fine," Pythagoras added before he could answer, "when I can see that you are not."
"No," Jason answered. "I'm not fine… but you were right before… I need to give them a chance. All I can do is listen to what Minos has to say and then we'll have to see where we go from there." He looked down at his hands. "For all I used to pretend that maybe my mother wasn't dead when I was a child I never really expected it to happen… I think I owe it to her to at least hear her out."
Hercules frowned. The innocence and naivety of both his young friends never failed to astound him. Here they were in a situation that they should be running away from as far and as fast as they could and Jason was talking about hearing Pasiphae out – about giving the King and Queen a chance. A chance to do what? As far as the burly wrestler could see no good could come of the situation that they found themselves in. At best Jason was likely to be taken away from them and at worst the King might turn on him at any moment no matter how reasonable he might seem right now. As the big man watched, however, Jason glanced up at him. Hazel eyes met blue and for an instant Hercules saw a flicker of both understanding and sorrow in them before the gaze flicked away again. His heart clenched. Jason, it seemed, understood just what this situation could entail, had fully realised that it was likely to be the beginning of the end of life as they knew it, and was simply voicing what he needed to believe to get himself through the next few hours; was saying what he believed Pythagoras needed to hear.
"You should try to eat something," Hercules muttered. "Have a pastry… they're sweet."
Jason gave a quick laugh and shook his head.
"I'm not exactly hungry," he said. "It's not all that long since breakfast and I'm still a bit too worked up to eat anyway." He pulled a rueful face. "Besides knowing my luck I'd just get greasy marks on the furniture or something and I think I've made a bad enough impression already today."
"I am sure it is not as bad as you think," Pythagoras responded comfortingly. "The King was perfectly polite and pleasant when you spoke to him to accept his offer to come here and have a discussion."
"Offer?" Hercules spluttered. "It was an order!"
"I'm trying not to make him worry," Pythagoras told the big man with exasperation.
"Right, right… of course," Hercules said. "I'm sure the King means well and the fact that he's left us here for ages despite saying it was urgent that he spoke to you doesn't mean a thing."
"He is the King, Hercules," Pythagoras pointed out reasonably. "The city is in the middle of a siege. It is likely that something has come up that required his immediate attention."
Before the big man could respond further the door opened and a short, pompous looking man bustled in looking down at a paper in his hand.
"Your Majesty, I…" he began. He looked up and saw the three men sitting on the couches and trailed off, looking them up and down. "Who are you?" he demanded sharply. "What do you think you are doing lounging around in the royal quarters?"
"We were told to come here," Jason answered as inoffensively as possible. "My Lord," he added taking in the man's expensive chiton and supercilious manner.
The pompous man's eyes nearly bulged out of his head.
"You will stand when you address your betters," he all but screamed. "Don't you know who I am?"
"I'm afraid I don't My Lord," Jason said mildly. In his experience anyone who felt the need to use the phrase 'don't you know who I am' was generally self-important, arrogant and therefore not worth worrying about.
"I am the Lord Kephalon." He took in Jason's blank uncomprehending look and turned almost purple with rage. "Chief Advisor to the King."
Jason sucked in a sharp breath. He did not want to start his meeting with the King by getting into an altercation with Minos' right hand man. Somehow he felt that would make an even worse impression than having a meltdown in the Temple had already done. Painfully he pushed himself to his feet, feeling Hercules and Pythagoras drawing close on either side of him and knowing that they were there to provide both physical and emotional support if he should need it.
"I will hazard that you were not told to lie on the furniture and eat the food meant for His Majesty," Kephalon continued.
"We were told to make ourselves comfortable My Lord," Hercules protested.
"You lie," Kephalon hissed. "A servant would never be told to treat the royal chambers in this way."
"I'm not a servant," Jason answered hotly, his temper beginning to fray partly as a result of all the pressures of the day and partly because the man's attitude irritated him. "None of us are."
"You stand there dressed in little more than rags and tell me you are no servant?" Kephalon stated incredulously. "You are impertinent as well as lazy… and a liar. I will have you flogged for this." He glared at Jason and then flicked his eyes over the other two as well. "That goes for all of you… and the servant who trained you. They clearly did not teach you manners or proper behaviour. Afterwards you will be thrown out. We will see how you like begging on the streets in winter with a siege going on. You will rue the day you ever dared to sit on His Majesty's furniture!"
"I'm not a liar," Jason answered. "We were told to come here and make ourselves comfortable until the King could see us. He knows we are here My Lord."
"I will not be spoken to in this manner by a serving boy," Kephalon exclaimed. His face took on a cunning expression. "I will make you sorry you were ever born boy."
"I already am," Jason muttered under his breath. A startled and horrified look from Pythagoras told him that he had spoken a little louder than he had thought.
"You are clearly a thief who I have caught in the midst of robbing the private chambers of the royal family," Kephalon continued slyly. "You were desecrating the room when I arrived… eating food intended for the King and his family and were just in the process of stealing the statue from the family shrine. I will call the guards and you will be taken before the King for trial. At the very least you will lose a hand."
"I'm not a thief," Jason protested. "My friends and I have done nothing wrong My Lord." It was getting increasingly hard for him to remain civil and alongside him he could feel Hercules bristling, ready to defend his friends and then make a break for it if the situation required it.
"Do you really believe that the King will believe your word over mine?" Kephalon hissed. "You are a peasant… the lowest of the low… I am the King's chief advisor…"
"You were the King's chief advisor," a deep voice from behind him said dryly. "Although I believe that your position may be reviewed shortly."
Kephalon turned, his face draining of colour
"Your Majesty," he stammered, "I have found these servants abusing the comforts of your family chambers. I was in the process of chastising them when you entered."
"So I heard," Minos responded with his eyebrow raised. He fixed his chief advisor with a lethal stare. "How dare you?" he demanded. "It is not enough that you insult the Queen and keep news from me relating to the wellbeing of my people… but now you abuse my guests within my own chambers!"
"Guests?" Kephalon stuttered looking at his king with frightened eyes.
"Indeed," the King snapped. "A situation has… arisen that requires my immediate and personal attention and these men have vital information for me. I instructed that they were to be brought here and made comfortable and yet I find you abusing them."
"My Lord I was unaware of these matters," the chief advisor said desperately, his tone humble. "I swear I was acting only out of concern for your best interests. I did not mean to cause any offence."
Minos looked at him coldly.
"Very well," he said. "We will deal with this matter and your other recent failings later. For now you may leave us."
As Kephalon shuffled out the King turned towards his other three companions. "Please be seated," he instructed, his tone proclaiming that he expected to be obeyed without question. "I believed that you would be more comfortable here than in a more formal setting," he said to Jason. "Your friend informed me that you had sustained an injury some days ago that was strained last night and that you should by rights be resting. Whilst our conversation cannot wait I would not see you in any discomfort for it."
He didn't miss the narrowed glare that Jason levelled briefly at Hercules. Clearly the lad had not wished to show any weakness to people who he viewed as outsiders. Minos smiled inwardly. Jason it seemed was wary and over the next few weeks he would need to be. The Oracle had said that the boy tried to see good in everyone but did not give his trust easily – as far as the King was concerned that was all to the good.
"I would have been here sooner but I was unavoidably detained," Minos continued. "It seems that there are many matters that only the King can deal with… too many it seems at times." He sighed. "There are many things which we must discuss and it seems that we have very little time to discuss them. "Your mother will join us shortly but for now we must begin in her absence."
He did not miss the way that Jason flinched involuntarily at the mention of Pasiphae or the way his posture hardened defensively. The young man's hazel eyes flickered with warring emotions; anger, fear, sorrow, hurt and – perhaps the most surprising – hope. Minos narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. The little glimmer of hope he had seen in his stepson's eyes had been unexpected. He would need to think more about it later and filed it away for future reference. Jason, Minos noted with some displeasure, had still not followed his earlier instruction to sit down, although his friends had done as they were told and positioned themselves on one of the couches.
"Be seated," the King said more firmly allowing some of his disapproval to bleed into his tone.
Once Jason had sat himself down Minos took his own place in an ornate chair set opposite and clearly reserved for his use. He reached forwards to pour himself a goblet of wine, taking it thoughtfully and swirling the fluid around inside the drinking vessel as he planned his next words carefully.
"What I have to say relates to both the past and the future of Atlantis; to the resolution of this siege that we find ourselves in; to the conduct of the war between ourselves and Amphigeneia." He paused and fixed each of the other three men with a hard stare. "What I have to say does not go outside this room. Am I clear?"
"You have my word My Lord," Jason answered softly.
"Good," Minos responded. "Although our time is short I find I must begin with a brief history lesson. How much do you know of our recent past?"
"I know that you have been King for more than twenty years Your Majesty," Jason began, "and that the King before you was called Aeson. I know that there was a civil war and that you took the throne in the aftermath. Beyond that I don't really know all that much."
"I suppose that that is better than nothing and at least you will be able to listen to all I say without the prejudice of foreknowledge. Still with time passing so rapidly I had hoped to cut the history lesson short. I must out of necessity be concise. There will be time enough for you to learn of our history… of your history… later." Minos broke off briefly and took a long sip of wine. "Where to begin?" he mused. "Perhaps the best place to start is with the treaty between Atlantis and Amphigeneia. Our two cities had been in conflict for centuries; for decades there had been open warfare. The endless wrangling was bleeding both cities dry in terms of both resources and men. King Anaxandros' father, King Hagnon, had only recently assumed the throne. He was more far sighted than any of his predecessors had been and believed that the future of Amphigeneia lay in trade not conquest. Atlantis was, and had always been, the more powerful of the two states; was already a trading hub with links that spread beyond the Aegean. Hagnon sent emissaries to King Cretheus… your grandfather… to plead for peace. A treaty was drawn up between Amphigeneia and Atlantis which should have ensured peace between our cities forever."
"But Anaxandros has broken this treaty," Jason said.
"Indeed," the King answered. "He is claiming to have just cause, however. He is claiming that a clause exists within the treaty which justifies his actions. I have some of the finest minds in Atlantis looking into it… men so well versed in the law that it seems impossible that they will fail to find the truth… but at present it looks as though Anaxandros' claim – spurious as it undoubtedly is – does indeed have some legal validity as the clause he is citing may indeed exist."
He broke off as Pasiphae entered the room and gave his wife a brief smile. Pasiphae looked around the room imperiously, her eyes lingering longingly on her son before turning to regard his companions coldly.
"I had just begun to explain the situation we find ourselves in to Jason, my love," Minos murmured to her as she took her seat in a chair at his side.
"Surely this is a conversation that should be taking place in private?" Pasiphae responded sharply not bothering to hide her disapproval at the presence of Jason's friends.
"We are in private," Minos answered firmly. "These men have proved their loyalty on more than one occasion and I believe that they have a right to be here."
"As you wish," Pasiphae answered stiffly, returning to her contemplation of her son.
Jason found her gaze more than a little unnerving. He knew well enough that the Queen was a formidable woman and wondered anew what she might want of him.
"The clause Anaxandros is claiming exists in the treaty states that if either Hagnon or Cretheus – or either of their sons – were to die without a legitimate heir the crown of that state would pass to the king of the other. Since Aeson disappeared more than twenty years ago and was presumed to have died and his only child – you – were believed to have been killed the throne should by law have passed to Anaxandros."
"If King Anaxandros believes he has a right to the throne then why has it taken him so long to claim it?" Jason asked with a frown.
"He claims it was because he was making sure that the heir of Aeson was really dead and was not going to return to claim the throne," Pasiphae answered. "I think we can all agree that that is nonsense. It is far more likely that he believed Atlantis was far too strong for him to conquer. With the recent plague weakening the city he is likely to believe that this is his best chance. The clause in the treaty is merely an excuse for him to invade."
"He has declared a truce which began at dawn. We have been given two days to either produce Aeson's heir – which he clearly believes we will never be able to do – or surrender the city to him or the bombardment will begin again," Minos said. "This is where you come in. It seems that the Gods have chosen to favour our city and have returned you to us at the most opportune time. I wish to inform Anaxadros of your existence. To let him see that Atlantis' Prince has come home."
Jason fought down the first tendrils of panic that began to creep up from deep within him. This was what they wanted? To have him declare his parentage in front of the whole world? To live his life by their rules and to have all choice – all sense of self – stripped away from him?
"You can't expect him to believe that though," he said, desperately trying to buy himself some time to think. "He'll just say you're lying, My Lord."
Minos smiled softly.
"I am aware of that," he admitted. "I am merely seeking to buy some time. Our situation is not so desperate yet. We have stout walls and supplies for many months to come and clean, fresh drinking water available to us. We also have allies who will come to our aid. I have already despatched messengers and have received news that several of our allies are already on route. Anaxandros is far from popular and there are other kings who would wish to see his downfall. They need time to get here, however. Even if Anaxandros does not believe what he is being told he will have to at least appear to investigate it if only to give himself credibility if by some chance he does manage to take Atlantis." He paused and looked shrewdly at Jason. "I am not speaking of telling the whole world of your identity. I do not believe it would benefit either one of us to proclaim your existence so openly at this time. There will be a few trusted members of the court who will need to know the truth out of necessity, but the city at large will not know the truth. I will request an audience with Anaxandros to discuss terms. It is likely that that will take place on neutral ground between the city and his army. All I am asking for is your presence at my side."
"But wouldn't people wonder why I was there?" Jason asked. "I mean people in Atlantis. I'm not a member of your guard or anything…"
"You clearly have no experience of warfare," Minos said with some amusement. "It is usual for two opposing armies to have champions. These men fight against each other much as they would within an arena. As the man who slayed the Minotaur and saved my daughter from the brazen bull I would have plenty of cause to name you as a champion of Atlantis and as such your place at my side as part of my honour guard would cause no comment."
"And that's all you want?" Jason asked slowly. "Me to go with you to Anaxandros and tell him I'm Aeson's son?"
"That is all I want for now," Minos confirmed. "We still have many things to discuss Jason and many decisions to make for the future. For now though let us deal with the present and rid ourselves of the Amphigeneian irritation. Is this agreeable?"
Jason swallowed hard. What Minos was asking didn't really seem all that much, although he couldn't help but worry as to where it might inevitably lead. He had promised Ariadne that he would do everything in his power to protect her and this did seem to be a way to fulfil that promise. All he would need to do would be to play a part for a couple of days; to stand with the King at one or two private meetings. Hopefully it would buy the city the time that they needed for their allies to arrive – a week or two at most then. And if they failed he could join the defence on the walls as soon as he was able.
"I'll do whatever I can to help, My Lord," he said. "I give you my word that I will do whatever I can for the sake of Atlantis."
"Good," Minos responded. He looked appraisingly at Jason once more. "I would have you stay in the Palace for the next few days though… to receive instruction in how to behave when you meet King Anaxandros if nothing else. If he is to believe that you are the heir of Aeson then you must learn to act like it. You do not have the bearing or manners of a prince but such things can be learned. Rooms will be found for you within the family wing. Indeed I believe that your mother already has plans for your accommodation." He saw the brief look of panic that flittered across his stepson's face and smiled reassuringly. "Do not worry. Beyond the next few days you will not be held here against your will and your friends may stay with you if you so desire." Minos glanced at Hercules and Pythagoras. "I do not believe it would be possible to separate you from them anyway and as I have no wish to tie up my guards in the ridiculous exercise of keeping you in and your friends out I believe it will be simplest if they stay. They will of course be free to come and go as they wish. Once our dealings with Anaxandros are complete you will also be free to come and go as you please – although we must discuss future arrangements at a later date. That is not so bad is it?"
Jason shook his head dumbly, unsure of what to think or say.
"Good," the King said. "Now I am led to believe that you are under doctor's orders to rest and that you should be in bed with your leg elevated for the rest of today and tomorrow morning at the very least."
Jason shot a murderous look at Hercules who returned his gaze coolly, clearly completely unabashed – much to Minos' amusement.
"I will leave you now," the King proclaimed. "Your mother will see that you are comfortably situated and any needs you have are attended to," he hesitated and looked at his wife. "I believe that she wishes to have some time to get to know you. She will never tell you how deeply she grieved for your loss or how much she has longed for you. I hope that today we have taken the first steps along a road towards a united future for all of us. Know that you are welcome in our home and in our lives."
He stood and swept from the room. Jason watched him go with distinctly mixed feelings. Much as being in the presence of the King – of having his attention focussed on him – had made him feel awkward and uncomfortable, it had at least postponed the inevitable moment when he must deal with the reality of who his mother was. Absently he raised a hand to his forehead and briefly massaged his temples, feeling the first hints of a burgeoning headache appearing. A pointed clearing of the throat made him look away from the door and he turned to face his mother for the first time at last.